Homage
by Kemmasandi
Summary: Two years later, Marco pays a visit.


**Homage**

Marco returns to the desolate, windswept island two years later, alone, clutching a tatty, rolled-up newspaper and a bottle of good sake in his hands. The island is deep in the grips of its autumn, and the constant wind sends fallen leaves dancing in the dirt around his feet as he climbs the path to the lonely graves on top of the ridge. Marco knows he's the only person around for miles, the sense of pressing loneliness making him long for the camaraderie of his friends and crew aboard the Moby Dick's successor. There is a slight chill in the air, the salty tang of the sea a constant presence.

The graves look out over the island's rugged coast towards empty horizon. Marco wonders how their occupants would have viewed that; proudly, as conquerors of the unknown, or longing for the freedom to wander past the edge of the world again.

He stops in front of the smaller headstone, the one ornamented with a weatherbeaten old hat and a knife whose scabbard is showing moss growing in the shadow underneath it. No words are spoken as he unrolls the newspaper, smoothing the crinkles out of the front page. The photo splashed across it shows a black-haired boy wearing a battered straw hat, grinning at the camera as if he hadn't a care in the world. The caption beneath it reads, all in capitals: STRAW-HAT PIRATES BACK!

"Looks like your brother's doing pretty well for himself," Marco murmurs, and tosses the newspaper onto the ground in front of the grave. "We'll keep on watching over him for you, but by the looks of it, I don't think we'll need to for much longer."

Blank stone stares back, unresponsive. The wind swirls around him, a new, more intense chill suggesting that perhaps the dull grey clouds piling up out to sea come bearing more than just rain. Marco eyes the shadow on the ocean underneath them with a distant sort of interest.

"The guys have set up a betting pool on when he's going to make it to Raftel. Earliest bet so far is late next year. That'd be one hell of a New Year's gift if it's right."

He steps to the right, and gazes up at the bigger headstone. The bisento that had been set into the marker is dull and covered with dust, the tattered coat hanging from it fluttering in the breeze. Marco uncaps the sake bottle, and upends it over the grave, though he makes sure he doesn't quite tip it all out. Pops had always been one for sharing.

"We're doing alright," he says, hunching his shoulders slightly against the cold wind. "We owe Red-Hair one for keeping Kaidou busy after the war. If he'd taken any of the islands, the greedy bastard wouldnt've given them back easily. This way, we're doing what we've always done." Sighing, Marco takes a mouthful of the sake. It goes down warm, and suddenly the wind doesn't seem to be as harsh.

"Wish you were still here, but life is life, I guess."

Minutes pass in silence. There are no birds on the island, not at this time of year. The crashing waves on the shore are too far away to hear, and the clouds roiling in the sky make no sound as they build up to a wintry storm.

Marco swirls the last of the sake around in the bottom of the bottle before he makes an executive decision and gently puts it down on the ground between the graves. He steps back, and gives one last, slow nod to each of them, before turning around to begin the long walk down to the shore. A couple of steps down the path, and he hesitates, then turns to grin back at the gravestones outlined stark against the grey sky.

"I'll be back next year."

* * *

_Inspiration strikes at the strangest times. I should have been working on a theme log for English class tomorrow, but instead I waste an hour or so on this. Unbeta-ed, like all my writing, so feel free to point out any mistakes. For the title, I couldn't find anything that really fit, so let's just go with 'Homage' for now…_

_I love Marco. He's such a fascinating character. It's amazing how Oda can convey so much of someone's personality even when they only turn up for a few chapters total… I'm dead sure the above story is OOC, but hey- I'm practicing._

_One thing is for sure, however- in Something In The Water, I am going to try my hardest to keep Ace alive, even if it means screwing up the most heart-wrenching scene in the entire damn story…_


End file.
